"Well, it's over and done with now," she said after a pause. "And talking about it won't mend it.—Tell me, rather, what you intend to do. What are your plans?"
"Plans? I don't know. I haven't any. Sufficient unto the day, etc."
But of this she disapproved with open scorn. "Rubbish! When your time here is all but up! And no plans!—One thing, I can tell you anyhow, is, after to-day you needn't rely on Schwarz for assistance. You've spoilt your chances with him. The only way of repairing the mischief would be the lesson I spoke of—one a week as long as you re here."
"I couldn't afford it."
"No, I suppose not," she said sarcastically, and tore a piece of paper that came under her fingers into narrow strips. "Tell me," she added a moment later, in a changed tone: "where do you intend to settle when you return to England? And have you begun to think of advertising yourself yet?"
He waved his hand before his face as if he were chasing away a fly. "For God's sake, Madeleine! ... these alluring prospects!"
"Pray, what else do you expect to do?"
"Well, the truth is, I ... I'm not going back to England at all. I mean to settle here."
Madeleine repressed the exclamation that rose to her lips, and stooped to brush something off the skirt of her dress. Her face was red when she raised it. She needed no further telling; she understood what his words implied as clearly as though it were printed black on white before her. But she spoke in a casual tone.
"However are you going to make that possible?"